Enigma Variations, 5B: The Colours of You (Items 3 and onwards)
Title: Enigma Variations, 5b/?: The Colours of You (Items 3 and onwards)
Summary: Smut, and shower times
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Spoilers: See Summary
Length: about 3300 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: Here you go, smut at last! Not very very smutty, but there are still a goodly number of chapters to go before we get to the end of this story…
Enigma Variations
5B The Colours of You (Items 3 and onwards)
Item Number 3.I want to touch Vince’s hair **** ----- everywhere.
Naked and breathless, Howard flings his crumpled trousers and pants across the room in the vague general direction of the laundry basket, and sits back down on the bed with a triumphant smile on his face. “There.”
“See? I knew you could do it.” Vince can feel an equally triumphant smile spreading across his own face.
“Now what?” Howard’s smile wavers a bit; he looks suddenly shy.
“Whatever you want,” Vince whispers. “I’m all yours, Howard.”
A hand brushes across the edges of Vince’s hair. Vince leans into the touch, and feels Howard’s fingers running through his tangled locks, burrowing deeper to caress his scalp and the nape of his neck.
“Is that - is that all right?”
“Course it is. Nothing’s off limits, not even the hair.”
“Where else would you like me to…?”
Vince thinks of all the crossings-out on Howard’s list; wishes a few more of them had been legible, so he’d know which bits of him Howard really liked.
Then he catches Howard’s eye again, and sees that it doesn’t matter.
Because it’s him, it’s Vince, that Howard really likes; and Howard really wants this to be good for Vince too, only he can’t see into Vince’s head, so Vince will have to tell him.
Or show him.
Vince reaches up, and grips Howard’s wrists; pulls the big hands gently forwards, until they’re cupping his face. He nuzzles into Howard’s palm, and kisses the soft skin on the inside of one wrist, and then the other.
“My face,” he whispers, “touch my face, Howard, I’d really like that.”
Howard’s fingertips stroke gently, hesitantly, over Vince’s closed eyelids; across his brows; along his cheekbones. “You’ve never let me do this.”
“I would’ve, if I’d known you wanted. And if I’d known it’d feel like this.” Vince presses his cheek against Howard’s hand, like a cat wanting to be stroked some more.
“You always had facepaint on. Warning people away. Like a ‘Keep Off The Grass’ sign. Don’t touch the Face of Noir, it must remain immaculate. Like the hair.”
“I’m not going to be inaccurate any more,” Vince says. “Not for you anyway. I know exactly how good this feels… Howard…”
The gentle touches are taking Vince apart completely, stripping him barer than he’s stripped himself, as though his skin’s come off too and Howard is touching his heart and soul. There’s a lump in his throat, and sudden tears spilling from under his closed eyelids.
“Sssshh,” Howard whispers, and runs a finger along Vince’s trembling lips. “I know, Little Man. I know. We had a near miss there, didn’t we? But it’s going to be all right now.”
Vince keeps his eyes closed, and Howard kisses him softly on the mouth, kisses his tears away, goes on kissing down his chin and throat and into the hollow of Vince’s collarbone, where Vince had never even known it was nice to be kissed; and with a little encouragement, he is soon kissing around Vince’s hard nipples, and that is very nice indeed.
So nice that very soon Vince is stretched out on the bed, with Howard lying beside him, and now when they kiss, Howard is still trembling but it’s definitely because he’s turned on and not at all because he’s scared.
Well, maybe a bit. But not enough to make him stop. And he doesn’t seem to notice when his erection bumps against Vince’s side.
Howard’s hands carry on stroking Vince’s skin, and discover a few other sensitive spots that Vince didn’t know he had. It’s getting harder and harder… more and more difficult to hold back from the huge and messy climax that is building up inside Vince, but he doesn’t want to let go, not yet. He knows Howard is a bit apprehensive about bodily fluids, and that certain things will need careful handling.
The thought of Howard carefully handling certain things is almost Vince’s undoing.
Perhaps he can distract himself a bit by starting work on…
Item Number 4. I want Vince to touch me.
Vince opens his eyes. “Howard?”
“What is it?” Howard leans up on his elbow, and looks anxiously into Vince’s face.
“Can I touch you too?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I - you didn’t need to ask, just - Please. Yes.” Howard buries his face in Vince’s shoulder, and his voice comes out all muffled. “God, you had me worried for a moment there. I thought I’d done something wrong.”
“Howard, right now this minute I don’t think you could do anything wrong if you tried.” This isn’t easy stuff to say without giggling and being embarrassed, but it needs to be said, because Howard needs to hear it. “I’ve never felt like this with anybody before. Not even I could make me feel this good. So stop worryin’ about it.”
And Vince starts to run his hands over Howard’s skin. Although the wishlist didn’t go into much detail - clearly it was quite a big step for Howard to admit, even to himself, that he wanted to be touched at all - Vince knows at least some of the places where Howard is particularly sensitive, and it doesn’t take him long to discover some of the others.
He has no idea how he himself doesn’t come on the spot when Howard finally relaxes and lets him stroke the soft brown thatch in his groin, and then take Howard’s shaft in his hand…
But still he has the feeling Howard wants more.
Another glance from those brown eyes tells him what he already suspected: that what Howard really, really wants is to be touched - there.
It takes a while for Vince to pluck up the courage, and another anxious couple of minutes working his free hand gently into the cleft between Howard’s bum-cheeks. Howard is taking big shaky breaths and making funny little whimpering noises, but he doesn’t pull back or take Vince’s hand away.
There. Vince feels hot, puckered skin under his fingertips, and it’s like an electric shock straight to his groin, but he doesn’t have time to think more than “Oh,” because Howard is coming, all over Vince’s other hand and his own stomach, and he’s groaning and cursing and then apologising.
“Hey.” Vince pulls him into an awkward, slightly sticky hug. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” Howard’s face is all screwed up, as though he’s trying not to cry. “I - I wanted my first time to be special…”
“An’ it was. You came in my hand.”
Howard sniffs miserably. “Exactly.”
“No. No-no-no, Howard, that’s not what I meant. Listen.” Vince takes a deep breath. Explaining isn’t his strong point. “You came in my hand - ”
“Stop going on about it. I feel bad enough as it is.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Howard, will you just listen for one minute?” Vince pins Howard flat on his back, a hand on each shoulder, and leans his forehead against Howard’s. “Cos you’re not gettin’ it, an’ I need you to understand this. You came in my hand. Not in anyone else’s hand, or anyone else’s anywhere else, or - or over the tits of some pissed bird you got off with at a student party who then wiped herself down with your favourite jacket, laughed in your face and never spoke to you again…”
He swallows hard. “See, my first time wasn’t special. But yours was. You were with someone who actually knows your name and actually does give a shit about you, and who’ll be there for the second time and the third time an’ all the times after that, if you want. And who doesn’t mind if you last three seconds or three hours. Now do you get it?”
“Oh, Vince.” Howard’s warm hands stroke Vince’s back; pull him close. “It’s all gone a bit wrong. But I do see what you mean… and… Thank you. Thank you for making it special.”
“The next one’ll be better, I promise.” Vince snuggles into Howard’s neck. “An’ it doesn’t matter if we don’t do things in the right order an’ they get a bit mixed up…”
Howard freezes. “What do you mean, in the right order? How did you know - about the striptease, and where to - Did you read my private list?”
“Well, I, um…” It isn’t fair to hide. After all, Howard can’t. “I did, yes. Sorry. Well, the striptease wasn’t actually there in so many words, it was just a good guess, an’ you hadn’t actually put where you wanted me to touch, but I can see when I look at you, an’ I only read as far as where you’d folded it over, honest.”
Howard says nothing, but Vince can feel him blushing, the skin of his throat and shoulder growing hot.
“I just wanted to make it nice for you,” Vince pleads. “An’ you did - you did take that potion because you wanted me to see the stuff you couldn’t tell me…”
“You have a point there, Little Man.” Howard doesn’t sound quite so horrified now; Vince relaxes ever so slightly. “And I suppose… if you knew what was next on the list… it might make it easier…”
“It might,” Vince agrees, trying not to sound too eager.
“If I unfold it… and you just look at the next item or two…”
“It’s OK, Howard, you know I’m a slow reader.”
“And you promise not to laugh? Remember, I don’t know very much about any of this.”
Vince kisses Howard’s cheek. “I promise. I ’preciate this, Howard, I really do. I know it’s not easy for you.”
He lifts his head, and looks deep into Howard’s brown eyes.
“There you go,” Howard says, his voice slightly hoarse all of a sudden. “Item Number 5.” And he shuts his eyes again, very quickly.
“Genius.” Vince kisses him again. “That’s exactly what I would have done next anyway. An’ you’d even drawn a diagram an’ everything - ”
“Only because I couldn’t bring myself to write the words.”
“The words ‘I want Vince to give me a fantastic blowie’?”
“Erm, something like that, I suppose, yes.”
“Your wish is my command.” Vince sits up, and bends over.
“No. Stop. We can’t…”
“You not ready for more yet? You Northern types, no stamina.”
“It’s not that. But I’m… I’ve… you know.”
“Howard, it’s only a bit of sticky, I don’t mind.”
“But I do.”
Vince thinks about arguing, and doesn’t. Time for more honesty instead.
“I, er, well, ’fraid I peeked at the next one as well.”
That one did have words.
Item Number 6. I want to go ‘all the way’, whatever exactly that involves.
“Oh.” Howard sounds doubtful; then he heaves a sigh. “Well, at least you didn’t laugh.”
“Why would I? It’s what I want too. An’ I might know a bit more than you, but I don’t know exactly what it’ll involve, for you and me, cos everyone’s different, but we can take our time findin’ out. You know, what you like and what I like and all that.”
Howard rolls onto his back, and stares at the ceiling.
“Vince, I’ve… I feel a bit of a tit, not knowing, but I’ve never had anyone I felt I could ask. And I know there’s a lot of stuff on the internet about sex, and I did look, a bit, but quite frankly some of it scared me and most of the rest of it was just so… sordid. Tacky.”
“And you wanted it to be romantic and beautiful.” Vince reaches for Howard’s hand. “I think we might be able to manage that. Although…”
“Although what? Is it going to hurt, or something?” Howard’s grip tightens.
“I hope not. But it might. Depends what we do. An’ some of it could be uncomfy, or messy, or… Howard, I’ll do my best to make it perfect and lovely for you, but I can’t promise… I’m not superhuman or anything. I’m just me. All that stuff about bein’ a rock star and a fashion diva, that’s just window dressin’ and ballcrap, there’s a real boy under there an’ he’s a bit messed up in his mind-tank and not very bright either. But he’s smart enough to know when he’s onto a good thing, and you, my friend, are it.”
Howard turns his head and looks at Vince with pure love. “Vince, I’ve… I’ve never heard you talk like that before. I don’t know what to say…”
“Then don’t say anything, Big Man, or I’ll start cryin’ again. Tell you what, let’s go an’ have a shower, get un-stickied, then maybe we can tackle Number Five. Does that sound like a plan?”
“It sounds uncommonly like a plan, sir. Evidently my highly organized influence is rubbing off on you.”
“Yeah.” Vince giggles, and runs a finger through a particularly sticky patch. “An’ that’s not all that’s rubbed off on me.”
“You, sir, have a filthy mind.”
“I know… But isn’t that why you love me? Hey, no, don’t answer that… Last one in the shower gets to clean the hair filter!” And Vince bounds off the bed and heads for the door, only to be felled by a flying tackle from a surprisingly nimble Northern Bullet, coming at him like a bean or a rustle or whatever it is Howard always says, only Vince is never listening.
There follows a very nice bit of rolling around on the bedroom carpet in amongst the wreckage of Vince’s abandoned clothes, before they call a truce and go down the passage to the bathroom, hand in hand and stark naked.
“Hi Bollo!” Howard calls breezily, as they pass the open door of the kitchen.
“Ugh,” a deep voice growls from behind a mound of Shamansbury’s carrier bags, “I didn’t need to see that.”
The kitchen door bangs shut.
Howard in the shower is something Vince has seen before, only he’s never been in the shower at the same time, and now he can touch as well as look, and doesn’t have to pretend to be looking somewhere else so as to preserve the big man’s modesty, because Howard seems to have thrown most of his modesty away along with his underpants.
They start with the routine cleaning-up, with plenty of silliness and bubbles and tickling and arguing over who’s going to bend down to pick up the soap every time Vince drops it accidentally-on-purpose; then there is the serious business of hair-washing, which turns rapidly less serious when Howard starts sculpting his own soapy locks into ever more ludicrous spikes; then all those bubbles have to be very thoroughly rinsed away, and then…
Vince catches Howard’s eye, and stands just apart from him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of that great big beautiful clean body, before dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms round Howard’s waist.
He looks up; he’s never seen Howard from this angle before. The hot water cascades over Howard’s shoulders, dripping from his hard nipples, streaming down his front…
“Howard?”
“Yes,” Howard says breathlessly. “Please…”
Vince takes the big man’s big cock gently in his hand, stroking and teasing it to fullness.
He cups Howard’s wet balls with his other hand, and Howard heaves in a ragged breath as Vince leans forward and takes him into his mouth, very slowly, giving him plenty of time to get used to it.
It’s quite a lot to get used to. In every sense. Vince licks around the soft folds of foreskin, tasting salt and bubblebath, moving his lips down over the ridge of Howard’s tip, moulding his mouth to Howard’s shape.
He tries a careful suck, his tongue pressed against hard, pulsing flesh.
“Oh.” Howard braces himself against the wall, gasping for air. “Oh, yes, that’s just… Oh.”
Vince didn’t think he was very good at blowjobs, but he seems to be getting this one right so far. He keeps one hand round the base of Howard’s erection, to make sure he can’t take it in too deep and make himself heave, he knows that’s a huge turnoff. And he doesn’t want to spoil this, especially as it seems unlikely to last much longer.
Howard’s hands grip Vince’s hair, clinging and tangling. “Oh…”
His knees are trembling. And now Vince is tasting something that is more like earth than salt, and he didn’t think it was possible for the prick in his mouth to get any bigger, but it definitely has.
Vince slides off, and flexes his jaw, just to make sure it’s still working. He looks up. Howard is flushed and tousled and his chest is heaving. Vince is quite proud of the effect he’s having so far.
“Is something wrong?” Howard looks worried. “Do you want to stop?”
“No, nothing like that. Just… D’you want to come in my mouth?”
“Well, I… I hadn’t really thought about it, but… Is that OK? You don’t have to, I mean if you don’t want, but if you…”
Vince grins. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.”
Howard slips back into Vince’s mouth as if he belonged there, and it doesn’t take much, just a few slides up-and-down and some delicate tonguing, to put him past the point of no return.
“OH!” The grip on Vince’s hair is almost painful. Howard arches his back, and thrusts, and groans, and Vince feels it with him, feels the joy and the pleasure and the scaredness and the moment when Howard lets go of it all, right down Vince’s throat.
Vince can’t remember ever really liking the taste of come, it’s always reminded him of uncooked pancake mix, the sort of thing you eat as a kid and then wish you hadn’t. But this… this tastes of Howard, pure Howard, and Vince can’t get enough of it.
When he’s licked Howard clean of every last drop, the big man slides down the wall to sit beside him in the shower tray, the water still cascading over both of them. “Thanks,” Howard whispers. “That was…”
Howard Moon, out of words? It must have been good.
“Yeah. It was, wasn’t it?” Vince smiles, and Howard is smiling too, and then kissing him, and he hadn’t expected that Howard would want to share, but he doesn’t seem to be put off by it.
Howard’s a good kisser, and getting better by the minute, and now he’s wrapping a soapy hand around Vince’s bits, which Vince had rather forgotten about in the excitement but which are very eager on their own account.
After that things get rather blurred for a while and a lot seems to be happening at once: Howard’s big hands seem to be everywhere, tickling and stroking and squeezing until finally Vince’s climax hits him and it’s every bit as huge and messy as he’d expected, plus it’s pretty noisy, too.
He hopes Bollo’s got his headphones on. He probably didn’t need to hear that.
“And what about you?” Howard asks, as he’s towelling his hair dry.
“What about me, what?”
“Well, you read my list, and all that, but I never asked you. What do you really want?”
“I’ve got it.” Vince grins, and grabs Howard’s warm, slightly damp arse. “Oh, and… pancakes.”
“Pancakes?”
“Yeah. ’S been a long time since lunch, an’ I didn’t have any lunch. Come on.”
In case Bollo is still lurking, they pull on dressing gowns before they head for the kitchen, singing the pancake crimp in perfect unison.
Nice one, Man of Action. Vince congratulates himself on heading Howard off at the pass, before Vince could blurt out that he’d read right to the end of the list and sneaked a peek at Item Number 7.
Because neither of them is ready for that, yet.
Summary: Smut, and shower times
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Spoilers: See Summary
Length: about 3300 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: Here you go, smut at last! Not very very smutty, but there are still a goodly number of chapters to go before we get to the end of this story…
Enigma Variations
5B The Colours of You (Items 3 and onwards)
Item Number 3.I want to touch Vince’s hair **** ----- everywhere.
Naked and breathless, Howard flings his crumpled trousers and pants across the room in the vague general direction of the laundry basket, and sits back down on the bed with a triumphant smile on his face. “There.”
“See? I knew you could do it.” Vince can feel an equally triumphant smile spreading across his own face.
“Now what?” Howard’s smile wavers a bit; he looks suddenly shy.
“Whatever you want,” Vince whispers. “I’m all yours, Howard.”
A hand brushes across the edges of Vince’s hair. Vince leans into the touch, and feels Howard’s fingers running through his tangled locks, burrowing deeper to caress his scalp and the nape of his neck.
“Is that - is that all right?”
“Course it is. Nothing’s off limits, not even the hair.”
“Where else would you like me to…?”
Vince thinks of all the crossings-out on Howard’s list; wishes a few more of them had been legible, so he’d know which bits of him Howard really liked.
Then he catches Howard’s eye again, and sees that it doesn’t matter.
Because it’s him, it’s Vince, that Howard really likes; and Howard really wants this to be good for Vince too, only he can’t see into Vince’s head, so Vince will have to tell him.
Or show him.
Vince reaches up, and grips Howard’s wrists; pulls the big hands gently forwards, until they’re cupping his face. He nuzzles into Howard’s palm, and kisses the soft skin on the inside of one wrist, and then the other.
“My face,” he whispers, “touch my face, Howard, I’d really like that.”
Howard’s fingertips stroke gently, hesitantly, over Vince’s closed eyelids; across his brows; along his cheekbones. “You’ve never let me do this.”
“I would’ve, if I’d known you wanted. And if I’d known it’d feel like this.” Vince presses his cheek against Howard’s hand, like a cat wanting to be stroked some more.
“You always had facepaint on. Warning people away. Like a ‘Keep Off The Grass’ sign. Don’t touch the Face of Noir, it must remain immaculate. Like the hair.”
“I’m not going to be inaccurate any more,” Vince says. “Not for you anyway. I know exactly how good this feels… Howard…”
The gentle touches are taking Vince apart completely, stripping him barer than he’s stripped himself, as though his skin’s come off too and Howard is touching his heart and soul. There’s a lump in his throat, and sudden tears spilling from under his closed eyelids.
“Sssshh,” Howard whispers, and runs a finger along Vince’s trembling lips. “I know, Little Man. I know. We had a near miss there, didn’t we? But it’s going to be all right now.”
Vince keeps his eyes closed, and Howard kisses him softly on the mouth, kisses his tears away, goes on kissing down his chin and throat and into the hollow of Vince’s collarbone, where Vince had never even known it was nice to be kissed; and with a little encouragement, he is soon kissing around Vince’s hard nipples, and that is very nice indeed.
So nice that very soon Vince is stretched out on the bed, with Howard lying beside him, and now when they kiss, Howard is still trembling but it’s definitely because he’s turned on and not at all because he’s scared.
Well, maybe a bit. But not enough to make him stop. And he doesn’t seem to notice when his erection bumps against Vince’s side.
Howard’s hands carry on stroking Vince’s skin, and discover a few other sensitive spots that Vince didn’t know he had. It’s getting harder and harder… more and more difficult to hold back from the huge and messy climax that is building up inside Vince, but he doesn’t want to let go, not yet. He knows Howard is a bit apprehensive about bodily fluids, and that certain things will need careful handling.
The thought of Howard carefully handling certain things is almost Vince’s undoing.
Perhaps he can distract himself a bit by starting work on…
Item Number 4. I want Vince to touch me.
Vince opens his eyes. “Howard?”
“What is it?” Howard leans up on his elbow, and looks anxiously into Vince’s face.
“Can I touch you too?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I - you didn’t need to ask, just - Please. Yes.” Howard buries his face in Vince’s shoulder, and his voice comes out all muffled. “God, you had me worried for a moment there. I thought I’d done something wrong.”
“Howard, right now this minute I don’t think you could do anything wrong if you tried.” This isn’t easy stuff to say without giggling and being embarrassed, but it needs to be said, because Howard needs to hear it. “I’ve never felt like this with anybody before. Not even I could make me feel this good. So stop worryin’ about it.”
And Vince starts to run his hands over Howard’s skin. Although the wishlist didn’t go into much detail - clearly it was quite a big step for Howard to admit, even to himself, that he wanted to be touched at all - Vince knows at least some of the places where Howard is particularly sensitive, and it doesn’t take him long to discover some of the others.
He has no idea how he himself doesn’t come on the spot when Howard finally relaxes and lets him stroke the soft brown thatch in his groin, and then take Howard’s shaft in his hand…
But still he has the feeling Howard wants more.
Another glance from those brown eyes tells him what he already suspected: that what Howard really, really wants is to be touched - there.
It takes a while for Vince to pluck up the courage, and another anxious couple of minutes working his free hand gently into the cleft between Howard’s bum-cheeks. Howard is taking big shaky breaths and making funny little whimpering noises, but he doesn’t pull back or take Vince’s hand away.
There. Vince feels hot, puckered skin under his fingertips, and it’s like an electric shock straight to his groin, but he doesn’t have time to think more than “Oh,” because Howard is coming, all over Vince’s other hand and his own stomach, and he’s groaning and cursing and then apologising.
“Hey.” Vince pulls him into an awkward, slightly sticky hug. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” Howard’s face is all screwed up, as though he’s trying not to cry. “I - I wanted my first time to be special…”
“An’ it was. You came in my hand.”
Howard sniffs miserably. “Exactly.”
“No. No-no-no, Howard, that’s not what I meant. Listen.” Vince takes a deep breath. Explaining isn’t his strong point. “You came in my hand - ”
“Stop going on about it. I feel bad enough as it is.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Howard, will you just listen for one minute?” Vince pins Howard flat on his back, a hand on each shoulder, and leans his forehead against Howard’s. “Cos you’re not gettin’ it, an’ I need you to understand this. You came in my hand. Not in anyone else’s hand, or anyone else’s anywhere else, or - or over the tits of some pissed bird you got off with at a student party who then wiped herself down with your favourite jacket, laughed in your face and never spoke to you again…”
He swallows hard. “See, my first time wasn’t special. But yours was. You were with someone who actually knows your name and actually does give a shit about you, and who’ll be there for the second time and the third time an’ all the times after that, if you want. And who doesn’t mind if you last three seconds or three hours. Now do you get it?”
“Oh, Vince.” Howard’s warm hands stroke Vince’s back; pull him close. “It’s all gone a bit wrong. But I do see what you mean… and… Thank you. Thank you for making it special.”
“The next one’ll be better, I promise.” Vince snuggles into Howard’s neck. “An’ it doesn’t matter if we don’t do things in the right order an’ they get a bit mixed up…”
Howard freezes. “What do you mean, in the right order? How did you know - about the striptease, and where to - Did you read my private list?”
“Well, I, um…” It isn’t fair to hide. After all, Howard can’t. “I did, yes. Sorry. Well, the striptease wasn’t actually there in so many words, it was just a good guess, an’ you hadn’t actually put where you wanted me to touch, but I can see when I look at you, an’ I only read as far as where you’d folded it over, honest.”
Howard says nothing, but Vince can feel him blushing, the skin of his throat and shoulder growing hot.
“I just wanted to make it nice for you,” Vince pleads. “An’ you did - you did take that potion because you wanted me to see the stuff you couldn’t tell me…”
“You have a point there, Little Man.” Howard doesn’t sound quite so horrified now; Vince relaxes ever so slightly. “And I suppose… if you knew what was next on the list… it might make it easier…”
“It might,” Vince agrees, trying not to sound too eager.
“If I unfold it… and you just look at the next item or two…”
“It’s OK, Howard, you know I’m a slow reader.”
“And you promise not to laugh? Remember, I don’t know very much about any of this.”
Vince kisses Howard’s cheek. “I promise. I ’preciate this, Howard, I really do. I know it’s not easy for you.”
He lifts his head, and looks deep into Howard’s brown eyes.
“There you go,” Howard says, his voice slightly hoarse all of a sudden. “Item Number 5.” And he shuts his eyes again, very quickly.
“Genius.” Vince kisses him again. “That’s exactly what I would have done next anyway. An’ you’d even drawn a diagram an’ everything - ”
“Only because I couldn’t bring myself to write the words.”
“The words ‘I want Vince to give me a fantastic blowie’?”
“Erm, something like that, I suppose, yes.”
“Your wish is my command.” Vince sits up, and bends over.
“No. Stop. We can’t…”
“You not ready for more yet? You Northern types, no stamina.”
“It’s not that. But I’m… I’ve… you know.”
“Howard, it’s only a bit of sticky, I don’t mind.”
“But I do.”
Vince thinks about arguing, and doesn’t. Time for more honesty instead.
“I, er, well, ’fraid I peeked at the next one as well.”
That one did have words.
Item Number 6. I want to go ‘all the way’, whatever exactly that involves.
“Oh.” Howard sounds doubtful; then he heaves a sigh. “Well, at least you didn’t laugh.”
“Why would I? It’s what I want too. An’ I might know a bit more than you, but I don’t know exactly what it’ll involve, for you and me, cos everyone’s different, but we can take our time findin’ out. You know, what you like and what I like and all that.”
Howard rolls onto his back, and stares at the ceiling.
“Vince, I’ve… I feel a bit of a tit, not knowing, but I’ve never had anyone I felt I could ask. And I know there’s a lot of stuff on the internet about sex, and I did look, a bit, but quite frankly some of it scared me and most of the rest of it was just so… sordid. Tacky.”
“And you wanted it to be romantic and beautiful.” Vince reaches for Howard’s hand. “I think we might be able to manage that. Although…”
“Although what? Is it going to hurt, or something?” Howard’s grip tightens.
“I hope not. But it might. Depends what we do. An’ some of it could be uncomfy, or messy, or… Howard, I’ll do my best to make it perfect and lovely for you, but I can’t promise… I’m not superhuman or anything. I’m just me. All that stuff about bein’ a rock star and a fashion diva, that’s just window dressin’ and ballcrap, there’s a real boy under there an’ he’s a bit messed up in his mind-tank and not very bright either. But he’s smart enough to know when he’s onto a good thing, and you, my friend, are it.”
Howard turns his head and looks at Vince with pure love. “Vince, I’ve… I’ve never heard you talk like that before. I don’t know what to say…”
“Then don’t say anything, Big Man, or I’ll start cryin’ again. Tell you what, let’s go an’ have a shower, get un-stickied, then maybe we can tackle Number Five. Does that sound like a plan?”
“It sounds uncommonly like a plan, sir. Evidently my highly organized influence is rubbing off on you.”
“Yeah.” Vince giggles, and runs a finger through a particularly sticky patch. “An’ that’s not all that’s rubbed off on me.”
“You, sir, have a filthy mind.”
“I know… But isn’t that why you love me? Hey, no, don’t answer that… Last one in the shower gets to clean the hair filter!” And Vince bounds off the bed and heads for the door, only to be felled by a flying tackle from a surprisingly nimble Northern Bullet, coming at him like a bean or a rustle or whatever it is Howard always says, only Vince is never listening.
There follows a very nice bit of rolling around on the bedroom carpet in amongst the wreckage of Vince’s abandoned clothes, before they call a truce and go down the passage to the bathroom, hand in hand and stark naked.
“Hi Bollo!” Howard calls breezily, as they pass the open door of the kitchen.
“Ugh,” a deep voice growls from behind a mound of Shamansbury’s carrier bags, “I didn’t need to see that.”
The kitchen door bangs shut.
Howard in the shower is something Vince has seen before, only he’s never been in the shower at the same time, and now he can touch as well as look, and doesn’t have to pretend to be looking somewhere else so as to preserve the big man’s modesty, because Howard seems to have thrown most of his modesty away along with his underpants.
They start with the routine cleaning-up, with plenty of silliness and bubbles and tickling and arguing over who’s going to bend down to pick up the soap every time Vince drops it accidentally-on-purpose; then there is the serious business of hair-washing, which turns rapidly less serious when Howard starts sculpting his own soapy locks into ever more ludicrous spikes; then all those bubbles have to be very thoroughly rinsed away, and then…
Vince catches Howard’s eye, and stands just apart from him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of that great big beautiful clean body, before dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms round Howard’s waist.
He looks up; he’s never seen Howard from this angle before. The hot water cascades over Howard’s shoulders, dripping from his hard nipples, streaming down his front…
“Howard?”
“Yes,” Howard says breathlessly. “Please…”
Vince takes the big man’s big cock gently in his hand, stroking and teasing it to fullness.
He cups Howard’s wet balls with his other hand, and Howard heaves in a ragged breath as Vince leans forward and takes him into his mouth, very slowly, giving him plenty of time to get used to it.
It’s quite a lot to get used to. In every sense. Vince licks around the soft folds of foreskin, tasting salt and bubblebath, moving his lips down over the ridge of Howard’s tip, moulding his mouth to Howard’s shape.
He tries a careful suck, his tongue pressed against hard, pulsing flesh.
“Oh.” Howard braces himself against the wall, gasping for air. “Oh, yes, that’s just… Oh.”
Vince didn’t think he was very good at blowjobs, but he seems to be getting this one right so far. He keeps one hand round the base of Howard’s erection, to make sure he can’t take it in too deep and make himself heave, he knows that’s a huge turnoff. And he doesn’t want to spoil this, especially as it seems unlikely to last much longer.
Howard’s hands grip Vince’s hair, clinging and tangling. “Oh…”
His knees are trembling. And now Vince is tasting something that is more like earth than salt, and he didn’t think it was possible for the prick in his mouth to get any bigger, but it definitely has.
Vince slides off, and flexes his jaw, just to make sure it’s still working. He looks up. Howard is flushed and tousled and his chest is heaving. Vince is quite proud of the effect he’s having so far.
“Is something wrong?” Howard looks worried. “Do you want to stop?”
“No, nothing like that. Just… D’you want to come in my mouth?”
“Well, I… I hadn’t really thought about it, but… Is that OK? You don’t have to, I mean if you don’t want, but if you…”
Vince grins. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.”
Howard slips back into Vince’s mouth as if he belonged there, and it doesn’t take much, just a few slides up-and-down and some delicate tonguing, to put him past the point of no return.
“OH!” The grip on Vince’s hair is almost painful. Howard arches his back, and thrusts, and groans, and Vince feels it with him, feels the joy and the pleasure and the scaredness and the moment when Howard lets go of it all, right down Vince’s throat.
Vince can’t remember ever really liking the taste of come, it’s always reminded him of uncooked pancake mix, the sort of thing you eat as a kid and then wish you hadn’t. But this… this tastes of Howard, pure Howard, and Vince can’t get enough of it.
When he’s licked Howard clean of every last drop, the big man slides down the wall to sit beside him in the shower tray, the water still cascading over both of them. “Thanks,” Howard whispers. “That was…”
Howard Moon, out of words? It must have been good.
“Yeah. It was, wasn’t it?” Vince smiles, and Howard is smiling too, and then kissing him, and he hadn’t expected that Howard would want to share, but he doesn’t seem to be put off by it.
Howard’s a good kisser, and getting better by the minute, and now he’s wrapping a soapy hand around Vince’s bits, which Vince had rather forgotten about in the excitement but which are very eager on their own account.
After that things get rather blurred for a while and a lot seems to be happening at once: Howard’s big hands seem to be everywhere, tickling and stroking and squeezing until finally Vince’s climax hits him and it’s every bit as huge and messy as he’d expected, plus it’s pretty noisy, too.
He hopes Bollo’s got his headphones on. He probably didn’t need to hear that.
“And what about you?” Howard asks, as he’s towelling his hair dry.
“What about me, what?”
“Well, you read my list, and all that, but I never asked you. What do you really want?”
“I’ve got it.” Vince grins, and grabs Howard’s warm, slightly damp arse. “Oh, and… pancakes.”
“Pancakes?”
“Yeah. ’S been a long time since lunch, an’ I didn’t have any lunch. Come on.”
In case Bollo is still lurking, they pull on dressing gowns before they head for the kitchen, singing the pancake crimp in perfect unison.
Nice one, Man of Action. Vince congratulates himself on heading Howard off at the pass, before Vince could blurt out that he’d read right to the end of the list and sneaked a peek at Item Number 7.
Because neither of them is ready for that, yet.